


drabble: sweet

by zempasuchil



Category: Nußknacker und Mausekönig | Nutcracker and the Mouse King - E. T. A. Hoffmann
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-26
Updated: 2004-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zempasuchil/pseuds/zempasuchil





	drabble: sweet

In her wispy skirt and beribboned legs she graces the court, mingling and moving amidst them as though dancing. The ties of her slippers criss-cross and are laced all the way up her slim leg, to midthigh, and the pretty pink keeps catching Clara's eye, even thought all the other vibrant colors of the court. She catches glimpses of her here and there, flickering across the room as she lights among these people, those, but never close enough to Clara. Like a dream, or an enchanting butterfly, she who is the most beautiful dances just out of reach. Clara could request the presence of any member of the court, any member and they would be glad to obey, all but she, the Sugarplum Fairy, because she is the Queen and Clara, though honored, is but a guest in her realm.

The night grows on, and Clara greatly appreciates the dances and performances that are put on in her honor, but the caramel seat she is sitting on is getting warm and a little bit melty, and a gumdrop has fallen off the arm. She would like to eat it, as it sits in her hand, but she feels it would not be so polite.

The caramel is sticky beneath her legs, and she would stand but she doesn't want to disturb the festivities, and now the Sugarplum Fairy has finally come over, close, and she smells refreshingly of cinnamon and fresh buttercream. The Queen's eyes sparkle like her dress, and she is telling Clara that everybody else has finished their dances, and would Clara like to dance? With her?

 _But my nightdress is stuck and my hands are covered in sugar from the gumdrops and I would look so awful next to you because you're so perfect,_ Clara thinks, but she can't say no to the Sugarplum Fairy.

Only slightly hesitantly, Clara stands, and finds that her nightdress hasn't really stuck; in fact, it seems perfectly fine. Though pink, her hands aren't sticky against the Queen's soft, pale ones, and they are dancing across a suddenly cleared floor beautifully, wonderfully.

"So, what do you think?" The Sugarplum Fairy's voice is whisper-soft and meant for Clara's ears alone. "Do you want to go home yet?"

"Not anymore," Clara says, and blushes a little. Her partner smiles. A silly question comes into Clara's head, and she shouldn't ask since it isn't polite but the words pop out anyways, and it's too late to take them back now.

"How old are you?" She hangs her head a bit, but looks back up to see the Fairy's reaction.

Eyes twinkling bright, the Sugarplum Fairy laughs, loud and clear. It isn't a mocking laugh, not at all – in fact it is a child's laugh, full of joy. "How old are _you?_ " she asks Clara, and suddenly Clara can't remember. She also can't remember if the Queen's head was always on level with hers, or if her legs always felt this long, or if their hair had been the same color before, and now Clara's skin is milky pale as well.

"Am I you?" she wonders aloud. Their dance has stopped though Clara doesn't know when it did, and everything is faded away at the edges. The Sugarplum Fairy kisses her at the corner of her mouth; Clara thinks she tastes like vanilla and brown sugar. The feeling of those creamy fingers lingers on her skin long after she wakes.


End file.
